Painting with Dark Colors

A friend of mine has this saying: “today I am painting with dark colors.”  In other words, she is depressed or livid or just plain grumpy.  I feel like I am painting with dark colors this week. Hence, the reason I changed how my blog looks, to reflect that.

I am exhausted. I feel sick. I’m tired.  Man, this is where my kids get their whininess, huh?  We have a super-duper packed summer and all I want to do is lay on the couch and read trashy novels. Whine, whine, whine.

So I have to ask myself, what can I do about this?  I think I am going to take my %40 off coupon to Borders and buy me a book on what energizing foods to eat.  Maybe that’ll work.

Or I could just put one foot in front of the other and just plod on. But what kind of life is that?

Or maybe, I could just let myself rest.  Why do I feel guilty doing that? Why  can’t I just slow down and do…nothing.

Today as I paint with dark colors, I envy monks. They have permission to spend hours in meditation.  They can afford to contemplate nature for days on end. They don’t have to lock themselves in their overstuffed closet to get three seconds of prayer time.  Today, if could  really choose what I want…I wouldn’t choose the Border’s book, or the trashy novels, or the five minutes of rest that I can sneak in…I’d choose monkhood.  Without the sex change, of course.

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